On the Ninth
by RottenSocksandFluff
Summary: Sportacus more than regretted knowing too late that someone had a history with Number 9. He wished he had known. He wished he could have done something. He wished he could have protected Robbie before it had all gone so very wrong. But it had gone wrong. Sportacus had to fix it.
1. The Stage is Set

**Chapter 1**  
The Stage is Set

No no no.

This wasn't right.

This shouldn't be happening.

This was wrong.

 _All of this was wrong._

Sportacus looked behind himself, to the person that he had just failed to protect, to the person that had just been _slammed bodily into the bunker wall._

No.

 _No._

He heard crying, saw a flash of pink run toward the person. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her grab onto them like they were going to evaporate.

Sportacus' fists clenched, but he didn't move.

His focused turned singularly to the figure before him, Sportacus keeping himself between them and two of the most important people in the world to him.

How had it come down to this?

 _He could of stopped this._

It was bright. It was sunny, and if one were to say that Sportacus was excited, that would be somewhat of an understatement.

If one were to say that Sportacus was poorly attempting to bottle up his energy _because_ of said excitement, that would be an understatement.

If one were to say that if Sportacus had not suddenly decided to do a large exercise routine lest he would explode? That would _also_ be an understatement.

Sportacus breathed, his glee finally tampered down by the rigorous and long sets of the various exercises that the computer shot out of him in the form of cards.

He was at the last one, bicycle crunches, and he had been doing them counting down from one-hundred.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

He puffed, sweat rolling down his forehead and into his hair. His fists were clenched tight - nearly white-knuckled as he poured all of his focus into the exercise so he could lose the burst of energy.

Even he, Sportacus, the slightly-above-average sports-hero was tiring, this wasn't his first set of the crunches in the first place, and he had to push through the last few numbers to get to -

"- Zero!" he announced, and flopped on his back, breathing.

' _Good job, Sportacus. Might I suggest water?'_ his airship on-board computer suggested.

"Yes," he breathed, and he held up his hand from where he lay on the ground to catch the bottle that came whizzing toward him.

He sat up, arm draped over knees as he took a swig of the water, relishing in it's coolness.

Eventually he pushed himself up, and stretched, working out any tension and ache from his muscles. He snatched his hat and goggles from the ground, and gingerly put them back on, tucking in his blonde curls, and pulling the brim over his ears.

Now that he felt remarkably calmer, he decided to go tell the kids the news.

He picked up the glass delivery tube, and flipped it in his hand and caught it with a laugh. A red '9' was emblazoned on either end of it, and inside, it held a letter.

Sportacus pulled it out to read it again.

 _Number 10,_

 _I hear that you are still residing where I used to spend some of my early years as a hero. Seeing as it's been so long since I've seen you or my old nostalgic stomping grounds, I thought I would come by and visit you while I am nearby._

 _Your father also told me that you haven't been back up north recently, and thought maybe you'd appreciate some company of someone other than the townspeople - we can trade stories and tales when we see each other._

 _There might even be some good stories about Lazytown to tell you, too._

 _I can't let my mentor's favorite and only child be lonely, now can I?_

 _I look forward to seeing you, 10. I should be arriving on August the ninth and leaving again after the two weeks following._

 _Hope I won't be accidentally interrupting anything you might have had planned;_

 _Sincerely,  
Number 9._

 _PS : I still can do more push-ups than you._

Number Nine was coming to visit.

Number Nine who had trained under his father, and Number Nine who had helped his father to train _him_ was coming back to Lazytown to visit.

The other hero was right, after all, it had been some time since he had gone up north to see his family, or visit any of the other heroes, even the non-numbered ones.

Lazytown just kept him so busy.

Not that he regretted it for one moment. Lazytown was more than just a town that he looked after, it was far more than that. Lazytown was home, and Lazytown felt like family.

And Sportacus was more than excited to show off Number Nine to his newfound family.

"Door!" he called, and the airship complied.

The kids were absolutely beside themselves with excitement.

Sportacus smiled as the babbled excitedly, talking about how 'awesome' it was going to be that another hero was going to be in their town, even if it was for a short while.

Funnily enough, the children had immediately assumed that Number Nine was his father.

He learned that the kids had a long-standing theory that he was from some long line of heroes that saved the day in Lazytown and his family had been doing so for generations since the founding of the town.

While not _completely_ true, some of it wasn't too far-off.

Like, for instance, as he explained to them, his father was a hero, just not Number Nine.

His father was Number _Eight_.

That just got them more excited as they demanded explanations from him.

He wondered why he never explained it all before.

While yes, there were certain _aspects_ to who he was and where he was from that he did not have the liberty to explain to them, there were other things that he _could_ tell them.

Like how Number Nine had been trained by his father.

Or how Number Nine and his father trained _him_ when it was his turn to take up the mantle of being the next numbered hero.

Or like how there were more heroes than just the numbered, and how they were all over the globe rather than just Lazytown.

There was so much to explain.

But before he could do any of that, his crystal went off.

He promised that he would answer their questions to the best of his ability later, before he dashed off.

Sportacus flipped, vaulting over some walls and back-springing over others.

The call was not dire, but it was serious. So he was not surprised in the least when he came to the large cow-billboard that poorly hid the bunker behind it.

Robbie Rotten.

Was that smoke poured upwards from some distance behind the billboard?

Sportacus sniffed. Fire? If not, something was definitely burning.

Concerned, Sportacus moved quicker, rounding the billboard, and going past the top of the bunker, to the large field that surrounded the majority of Lazytown.

He could see Robbie, and a pile of something smoking, small flames flickering.

Sportacus could immediately tell why his crystal had gone off.

It had a handy ability where it could forewarn him of dangerous situations before they got out of hand.

Like right now.

It was hot, in the beginning of August, and the grass of the large field was dry and brittle from the lack of rain in the past few weeks; and if Sportacus didn't do something now, the fire could blow out of control.

He looked up, by the look of the clouds, the wind was picking up.

Acting fast, Sportacus doubled back the the bunker's entrance. Thankfully, Robbie had a random assortment of tools strewn about the place messily.

Sportacus grabbed a bucket, filled it, and dashed to the source of what could very soon become a massive problem.

He didn't even greet Robbie, instead pushing past him and over-turning the bucket of water on the thankfully small flame.

"What - _hey!_ " Robbie cried out. " _What are you doing!?_ "

Sportacus stamped on the wet burnt ashy mush that had been a fire, to be sure there was no flaming remnants. He heard the crunch of glass breaking.

"Robbie -" Sportacus breathed in relief as a gust of wind cut across the field. Just in time. "- that was extremely dangerous."

Robbie did dangerous things at times, yes, but this was an unusual lack of responsibility. Why was he setting a fire, of all things? Didn't he have a furnace to burn away whatever litter he had?

"I don't _care_ if it was dangerous," Robbie yanked the bucket from Sportacus' hands and knelt down. He began jamming the sopping wet remains of whatever-it-was into the bucket before Sportacus. "Mind your own business."

"The fire could have spread," Sportacus immediately scolded. "It could have set the field on fire, it could have spread to the _town._ " He paused. "Robbie - there's glass, you shouldn't -"

"Shut up. I don't care. The fire wasn't going to do _anything_ besides what it was _supposed to_."

"Robbie. The wind."

"I said shut up," Robbie growled.

Sportacus frowned.

" _Now go away,"_ Robbie's voice his tone venom.

Robbie was being rather... hostile.

"... What were you burning?" Sportacus peered at he pile.

"None of your business," Robbie spat, scrambling to pick up wet burned sheets of paper, and leaves. He winced, pulling back his hand.

Sportacus moved forward, knowing that Robbie must have cut his hand, but the glare he received stopped him. Robbie shook out his hand, before going straight back to what he was doing.

"What's going on?"

"I said - _none of your business_."

Robbie stood, arm around the bucket, the other smearing the ashy mud onto his clothing.

His behavior was... disconcerting.

Sportacus could see his hand was slightly bleeding, the fist balled up tightly, Robbie seemingly unaware.

"Robbie...?"

Something was wrong. Something _had_ to be wrong.

"What?" Robbie asked, pushing past him. "You know what? I don't care. Go away."

"Robbie - what's going on?"

"Nothing."

"Robbie -"

" _Go away_."

Sportacus nearly listened to him. He had half a mind to stop in his tracks and let the man skulk away and go back down into his lair.

But he followed. "Robbie."

"If this is about the fire, _I won't do it again._ Happy?" he spat. "Now leave. Ruin some other person's day."

"Robbie what is-"

" _Leave_."

Sportacus held up his hands. "Okay. Okay. I'm sorry."

The villain looked like he was going to storm off. He stopped in his tracks, the bucket still under one arm, his injured hand balled into a fist.

The tight posture suddenly wilted.

"I... er..." the previous venomous tone melted away. "Er..."

Sportacus took that as an invitation to approach, he did so, carefully. He walked around the villain to his front.

"I didn't mean to _snap_ ," Robbie finally dithered, gesturing with his free hand.

Sportacus captured it, frowning at the cuts, however shallow.

Robbie winced, but didn't pull his hand back, his expression one of regret.

Sportacus moved to pull out his handkerchief, and pressed it into Robbie's palm. "I just want to help," he explained, closing Robbie's fist over the balled up fabric, his own hand over Robbie's holding it closed.

"I know. That's... sort of your _thing_ isn't it?"

"Can I ask you what happened?"

Robbie shrugged.

"What were you burning?"

"... Things."

Things?

"Do you want to tell me?"

Robbie moved the bucket more out of Sportacus' view.

"Not particularly. I just want to -" the villain cleared his throat. " - _apologize_ ," it sounded like it hurt to say that, Robbie even made a gagging sound, "For... for... snapping. That's all. Not give you my life story."

Sportacus hummed, his hand still closed over Robbie's.

A long silence fell between them, Robbie shifting where he stood, holding the bucket in such a way as to make sure Sportacus couldn't see inside it, and Sportacus himself trying to search the villain's expression for any explanation of his odd and variable behavior.

Sportacus decided to break the silence.

He let go of Robbie's hand and opened the palm to check if the bleeding had stopped. "We're going to have a visitor in Lazytown."

"O-oh...?"

Sportacus spoke as he examined the palm for any traces of glass, "Number Nine is coming to visit."

Robbie's fist reflexively closed, then opened again. Sportacus looked up at him curiously.

"That's... nice." Robbie said carefully.

Sportacus stared.

Nice?

 _Nice?_

"What?" Robbie blinked. "What did I say?"

Sportacus chuckled a little, though he was confused. "Not what I expected you to say."

"What did you expect me to say...?"

Well, not _nice_ , first of all.

Maybe a tantrum, maybe for him to call and cry that his life was ruined that there were going to be two 'flippidy-flippity' heroes in town to ruin his peace and quiet.

He expected Robbie to yank his hand away and stomp away in his more classic theatrics, grabbing onto the idea of the old hero visiting to distract from the situation at large.

Sportacus expected all manners of things dramatic, theatrical, but not just... 'nice'.

Sportacus was going to reply, telling him that he expected Robbie to react a little _more_ to the information, but he saw a tightness in the man's features.

Maybe now was not the time to tease the man.

"Never mind."

"... Right..."

Sportacus gestured to Robbie's hand instead. "It looks okay, just make sure you wash it really well and keep it clean."

Robbie pulled his hand away. "... Right."

Sportacus crossed his arms, unsure of what to do next.

Robbie looked around himself, scratching his chin.

" _Well,"_ Robbie suddenly announced. "While this has been _absolutely riveting_ I have to... to..." he thumbed at his bunker. "... take a nap."

Sportacus nodded.

"- and you probably have to go and be annoyingly healthy at children somewhere."

Sportacus smirked a little, raising an eyebrow.

Robbie cleared his throat again. "Thanks. Sorry. Whatever."

He stalked off to his hatch, and descended down into it.

Sportacus would look back at this moment and scream at his past-self that he didn't do enough.

That he didn't ask enough questions.

That he didn't look, really _look_.

That he absolutely, completely, failed.

But he did not know all of that right then. Sportacus was only confused, concerned maybe, but mostly confused. He only looked at his crystal, feeling that the crisis had been adverted, and he eventually left.

If only he knew.

* * *

My take on the whole "Number 9 was an asshole to Robbie" bandwagon. But with a TWIST.  
Íþróttaálfurinn ISN'T Number 9! Íþróttaálfurinn is Number 8! Íþróttaálfurinn is pure and good and will NOT be happy when he learns of any of this from his dearest son.

R&R!

Sorry Robbie...


	2. Enter the Ninth

**Chapter 2**  
Enter the Ninth

"Robbie? Robbie?" she sobbed. "Robbie please? Please Robbie... No... _No_..."

* * *

' _Docking sequence activated_ ,' the cool and kind metallic voice of Sportacus' airship rang out.

It was a clear and cool day, clouds dotting the horizon, and a calm breeze brushing through the air.

Sportacus smiled as he watched the second airship in the sky do a careful turn towards his own ship, platform extending.

The airship was a much smaller and sleeker version of his own. It was aerodynamic, more resembling to that of a plane than an airship at all. Bright red, orange and white, it was a stark contrast against Lazytown's blue clear sky.

The Ninth was a roaming hero, he needed the tidy little ship after all. It's ability to retract the balloon and jet off at a great speed was key to his particular mission. He needed to be able to travel, and travel fast.

Clink.

 _Clack_.

The platform of his own ship began to extend from his doorway.

CLINK.

 _CLACK_.

The two ships connected, merging doorways and linking computers.

' _Docking sequence completed_. _Airships in synchronization. Welcome Number 9._ '

Sportacus smiled, flipping out of his control seat and making a dash to the door.

It flung open before he even got halfway across the floor, and an red blur collided with him.

Strong, deeply tanned arms enveloped him into a crushing hug, and lifted him off of the ground.

"Teiliedhel!" the low booming voice cried.

Sportacus laughed. "Thalion!" He greeted, hugging the visitor back.

He was put back onto the ground, and he got a chance to actually look at the visitor.

Number Nine stood before him, arms crossed, looking over at Sportacus with a proud glint in his eyes.

"You look as good as ever, _Sportacus_ ," the other elf greeted, grinning. "I see that you're staying healthy, eating well?"

"Of course!" Sportacus replied easily. "How about you, Nine?"

"Obviously."

They stood there for a moment before grabbing each other's hands in a fierce handshake. "It's really good to see you," Sportacus said, with much sincerity. "It's been so long. How have you been fairing? Your mission going well?"

"As best as it can be, it is the main reason why I am here." He nudged Sportacus with his shoulder, however. "Besides you, of course."

Sportacus smiled. "I see you finally updated your outfit," he gestured to the red gear the Ninth was wearing.

"Oh? This? Yes. Your dearest father insisted. Though he refuses to update his own."

"Of course he does."

Nine's outfit, though similar to his own in some respects. His had the same black and white stripes down the sides. It was wholly different.

Red and crimson with a dark-red leather cap pulled over his ears, and matching gloves, arm bracers and chest piece. Welding goggles were affixed above the cap's brim.

He looked more akin to a welder than a sports hero. Which fit his specialty nicely.

"I think it looks good," Sportacus complimented. "I'm sure father loved it."

"Of course he did. Speaking of -" Nine suddenly said, digging into his crimson leather side-bag. "Your dearest Adar insisted I gave these to you. Catch."

Nine flicked the items high into the air and Sportacus caught them both easily.

"... Lýsi , and..." Sportacus turned the jar in his hand and squinted at the hand-written label. "... Hakarl... How nice."

He wasn't surprised by Lýsi, he had so much of the stuff growing up with his father being the way he was... But the fermented shark...?

Nine barked a laugh. "Your dear old dad has a sense of humour."

Sportacus grimaced in good nature. His father certainly _did_ have a strange sense of humour. Though, sometimes it was hard to tell when he was joking or not.

Sportacus set down the two gifts onto the nearest table. "I think I might have to hold off on enjoying these... For a while."

Nine continued to laugh. "What? You're not going to insist that the children of Lazytown start to take Lýsi?"

Sportacus laughed back. "I don't think they'd like that very much."

He could already imagine Stephanie's wrinkled nose as she scrutinized the stuff.

"Speaking of the children," Sportacus said, gesturing, "They saw your airship on the horizon earlier, and are very excited to meet you."

Nine grinned. "That's right, _the kids!_ Your response letter told me all about them. It's been so long since I've been in Lazytown, I wonder how much they are like the kids I knew before.

Ah yes, that was right. Nine had known the children that had come long before the ones that Sportacus knew now. It was odd to know that the children - the adults too - in the town would be foreign to the man.

It had been quite some time ago, and so this would be a completely different generation of people.

A generation of whom had heard thrilling stories of the Ninth.

"Well, let's go meet them."

"Of course!"

And meet them they did.

The kids were in awe. They couldn't believe the Ninth hero himself was standing before them even though they were told only a few days before.

As soon as the airship had appeared in the sky, and Sportacus had retreated to his own to greet the other hero, the kids were waiting in the courtyard eagerly awaiting the old hero's arrival.

The Ninth waved, and greeted them with a 'Hello' to break the gaping silence. The tone he used was very reminiscent of Sportacus' own father, and he had to resist snickering.

"This," he announced, "as you all know, is hero Number Nine."

"Nice to meet you!" Stephanie was the first to greet.

"Hello!"

"Will you be _my_ hero?"

"Oh man it's so awesome to meet you!"

"Hello! Hello! _Hello!"_ Ziggy exploded with excitement, cutting over the other children, "Oh! Oh! Are you a sports hero too? Do you have a crystal? Can you do all those back flips like Sportacus can? Push-ups? Handstands? Where have you been? What was Lazytown like when you were here before? Why are you so young looking? Why are you wearing red? What are the gloves for? Do you like sports? Do you eat sportscandy?"

Nine was taken a-back eyes wide and he glanced over at Sportacus.

Sportacus quickly knelt in front of Ziggy. "Breathe Ziggy," he chuckled. "He's going to be here for at least two weeks. You can ask him those questions at a -" he glanced at Nine who had started to laugh his head off, "- at _slower_ pace."

The rest of the kids were sighing, but it was plain they wanted to ask the Ninth a million questions too. They were kids after all, and Sportacus encouraged them to ask questions.

"It's quite alright, Sportacus," Nine said after collected himself. "I can answer all his questions."

Ziggy was vibrating with excitement. " _Really?_ "

"Really," his brown eyes twinkled. "I love your exuberance."

Ziggy was won over immediately.

What followed was a wonderful afternoon.

Both of the heroes and all of the kids spent the time answering each other's questions or generally showing off what they could do.

The Ninth showed where his crystal was embedded - in his right arm bracer, underneath white and black '9' - and the kids showed him their tree house.

The Ninth impressed the kids by doing a kind of back-flip they had never seen before, and Stephanie and Sportacus impressed _him_ by their synchronized hero-stances and handstands. Stephanie excitedly explained that Sportacus had made her a 'heroes outfit' of her own and Nine gently teased him for 'picking favourites'.

The Ninth told them tales of Lazytown before it was the Lazytown the kids knew, and the kids were surprised that really not too much had changed at all.

Just technology was different, really.

The Ninth told him of his own talents, how Sportacus was more of the kind of Hero that focused on sports and play, and how he was focused on the physical trades. Like building and welding, like manual labour and how good it was for the body, mind and soul of a society. At least when he was a settled hero.

The kids got a promised lesson or two in some of the things he knew how to do.

It was allover quite wonderful, really.

Now, they were eating their lunch. Made and brought over by the Mayor - who stammered and greeted the Ninth with much gusto before scampering off - as well as a basket of fruits and vegetables brought by Stephanie.

Nine was sitting on the wall, biting into an apple, and Sportacus was beside Stephanie, munching on one his own.

Ziggy was right beside Nine, completely enamoured. "Hey, did you have a villain too when you were in Lazytown?"

Nine's eyebrow rose. "A... what?"

"A villain! You know, ever hero has to have a villain. Sportacus has one, even."

Nine looked at Sportacus, then back to Ziggy. "He does? Just who is this? A part of a game you all play?"

"No! It's a _real_ villain and everything. He tries to ruin our fun and games and make us be lazy and he tries to get rid of Sportacus _all the time_. Doesn't Sportacus tell you about that?"

"No... He hasn't." Both of Nine's eyebrows were up now, and he was looking at Sportacus with concern.

Stingy offered, "He tried to fire him out of a canon once."

" _Did he_."

Sportacus put up his hands. "He's not that big of a threat, actually. Most of what he does is harmless, and a lot of what he does is pretty amusing and fun."

Stephanie nodded. "He's a bit of a softie."

Ziggy frowned. "Yeah but he still tries to ruin things."

Nine took another bite of his apple, intrigued. "And where is this villain now?"

"In his lair."

"Oh there is a _lair_ in Lazytown, now? That's new."

"Well, it has been some time since you've been here," Sportacus offered. "It's more of a bunker, really."

Nine's position changed. "Bunker? Tell me, is this lair of this villain of yours behind a billboard?"

Sportacus blinked. How did he...?

Ziggy bounced. "Yeah! Yeah it is! That's exactly where it is!"

Nine laughed. "Well. Then someone pilfered my old hideout when I was in Lazytown."

Sportacus didn't know that. He thought that Robbie had somehow made it. So he supposed when Robbie had moved into town, he must have found it and taken it over.

"That's so cool!" Ziggy announced, bouncing. "It's so huge, I heard that there are even tubes and stuff underground the city and everything. How did you do it all."

"... Pipes? That's not my doing." Nine shook his head. "It definitely must have been changed since I've last been here. It was more or less an underground home. It was small," he gestured with his hands. "A bit cramped too."

Sportacus grinned a little. It was far from 'small and cramped' now. He was somehow happy to hear that Robbie had improved upon what Nine had already done.

"What is this villain fellow's name anyway?" the Ninth asked carefully after a moment, "I don't believe I've heard any of you say it."

"Robbie Rotten," Stephanie offered.

Nine froze. None of the kids noticed it, but Sportacus did. It was only for a moment, a mere split second. But it happened.

"What a silly name," Nine said simply, tossing the apple core behind his back and it landed neatly in a compost bin in someone' backyard.

He hopped off the wall.

"Are you leaving already?"

"Oh - no. I'm here for two weeks, remember?" Nine consoled. "I just want to talk to Sportacus for a moment. Exchange hero notes, important things like that."

Sportacus tossed his own apple-core into the bin and stood, feeling the distinct change in the air.

"Good idea!" Sportacus agreed. "We haven't seen each other in so long, after all. We need to catch up. You go and play; and we will be back later. Promise," he added with a wink.

"Okay!"

"Bye Sportacus!"

"It was really really nice to meet you, Mr. Nine," Stephanie said.

"And very nice to meet you," Nine said, and Sportacus was glad that Nine meant it, despite the change of the atmosphere.

Nine turned, then saluted at Ziggy. "... Ziggy."

Ziggy, overwhelmed, saluted back, nearly smacking himself in the forehead in the process.

Sportacus and the Ninth made it back to their airships.

Nine immediately paced, hand on his hip, the fingers of his other hand curled over his mouth.

"What is it?" Sportacus asked, standing over to the side, watching as the other hero walked back and fort. "Your attitude suddenly changed."

"I was afraid of this."

"Of what?"

"I was afraid that the problem would still be here."

"What problem?"

Nine stopped his pacing. "I made a terrible mistake to leave Lazytown as it was when I was younger. I left things unfinished."

Sportacus crossed his arms, he felt a pang of worry. "Unfinished business?"

He remembered a long while ago, before Sportacus even started as the hero of Lazytown, that the Ninth had regrettable unfinished business that he wished he had the time to attend to.

"Yes."

"What sort of 'unfinished business'?"

"One that pertains to my current mission," Nine explained.

Ah. Oh dear.

"I didn't think there was anything to do with the fae in Lazytown, Thalion."

"Oh there _is_ ," Nine stated, dead serious. "I made a lot of mistakes when I was younger, Teiliedhel. A lot of mistakes. I approached things wrong and plain left things unfinished because I thought they'd sort themselves out."

Sportacus approached him. "What happened? What's here?"

"A fae tool."

Sportacus blinked. "A what?"

"It's hard to explain," Nine waved his hand. "When I came to Lazytown, there was a tool of the fae here. It was created to be used to interfere with children - to cause _harm_ to children."

Sportacus felt his chest tighten in fear. _"What_?"

"Not just _any_ children," Nine growled.

"What do you mean by that, exactly?"

"I mean _Elven_ children."

Sportacus' hands reflexively clenched.

Now he knew why Nine was so riled. Given the other elf's history, and his particular talents in sensing magic, it was no wonder.

But also...

Elven children were rare. Very rare. Elves lived long lives, but had trouble conceiving children. It was rare for a couple to have more than two children, and it was all the race could do to keep their population stagnant.

He was an only child himself, after all.

Nine used to be an elder brother to three siblings.

Used to be.

Sportacus put a hand on the other's shoulder. "What sort of danger to Elven children, why _here_?"

Lazytown was far away from Elven society, very far away. It was in the middle of no-where, where nothing happened and nobody bothered anybody.

"I don't know why _here_ , but I believe the intent of the tool was to infiltrate Elven society. It failed horribly, of course, but it still exists. It is very, very dangerous."

"Why didn't anyone tell me this before?"

"Because I wasn't sure. Because I was foolish and weak back then and now I want to be _sure_. Because I thought maybe it had sorted itself. Because I thought maybe, since I heard nothing from you, that the danger was gone."

"You know I can't sense fae magic like you can," Number Nine had that unfortunate talent.

"I know. I'm sorry."

Sportacus frowned. "What do we _do_?"

"I will have to eradicate the problem. Its what I should have done." Nine said simply.

"Should we warn the parents? Is it a threat to the kids now? To the other citizens?"

"I get the feeling it has already interfered." Nine tapped his own temple. "I can sense it in the city. It's not strong, barely there, but that could just be part of the foul experiment that tool of their _is_. It's not like any other fae machination we've seen."

Sportacus crossed his arms, thinking of the kids.

If Nine was worried, he should be worried too.

"I think we should warn the adults - at the very least, the mayor." He added, "Robbie too."

Nine _froze_. "What?"

"... We should warn Robbie too? Look, I know the kids say he's the 'villain' of the town - he will tell you that too - but he's been here longer than me; he knows this place inside and out. The bunker you had before? He has to have expanded it, it runs nearly under the whole town."

If anyone could help them, it was Robbie.

Maybe he knew something. Saw something? Maybe Robbie had information even if he didn't know what it was.

Nine was dead silent, and Sportacus would wish that in this moment, he _paid attention_ to Nine.

To how he moved. To how he suddenly and carefully spoke. How doubt filtered through his expression and how he suddenly looked worried for Sportacus himself.

He didn't notice, he didn't _see_ because he had looked away, looking out one of the windows of his airship, to the city below.

"... I see...?" Nine said, carefully.

Nine sounded as if he wanted to say something, almost as if he wanted to correct Sportacus of something.

Sportacus _wished_ he had then. He really did.

Sportacus felt that it was this moment was his ultimate failure.

He wished he questioned Nine more before agreeing to Nine's suggestion.

"Let's visit your villain then, Sportacus," Nine said after a long moment, his voice careful. "Let's see what he has to say about this."

* * *

R&R~


End file.
